


what can i get you?

by war-sword (celestialceci)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - Muggle, F/M, Workplace Relationship, based on my actual job lmao, catering, draco being nice, idk kinda like aquaintances to lovers, irl flirting, online flirting, snapchatting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-02
Updated: 2019-12-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:40:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21646918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/celestialceci/pseuds/war-sword
Summary: One handsome Draco Malfoy is the only boy at your new job you trust to tie your ties.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Reader
Comments: 20
Kudos: 144





	1. cool with you

**Author's Note:**

> i spent too much time doing research to make the details of this accurate and absolutely no one is going to fact check me so why did i even bother lmao. also please keep in mind that this is like… based on an actual job i have so sometimes i talk a little too much about the catering IM SORRY but i hope no one’s too bored by it!!!
> 
> [playlist for this fic](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2V49ngJFxZ6sPXt1eoEXHn?si=c9yHueAESU2qVFtXGfMiTA)

It’s your first day on the job.

You check your texts one more time just to be sure. “Park in the parking deck, then proceed around the right side of the building and come in the back doors. Call Gabrielle if you have any problems.” You grab your purse from the passenger seat and get out of your car, making your way down the staircase to the bottom level. Per the instructions, you walk around to the side of the building and spot a set of doors. Just to be sure, you peek through the windows. A large group of people mill around a side lobby, folding napkins and arranging flowers. Not too hard.

You push open the doors, and decide to just ask the first person you can. “Hi, do you know where I can find Gabrielle?”

A boy with dark and curly hair turns from his napkin folding to look up at you. “Yeah, she’s in the kitchen. You know where that is?” You shake your head. “I can take you.”

He places his finished napkin onto the pile with the rest and gets up from his chair, leading you down the hallway and past the reception room where you can see chairs all set up. The kitchen is not what you expected– it’s a lot less nice than you would think a hotel like this would have, but a group of about six people are hard at work putting together charcuterie boards. “That’s Gabrielle right there,” the boy points. You thank him and he leaves to go back to the napkins. 

“Hi, Gabrielle,” you say, catching her attention. “I’m Y/N.”

Gabrielle is taping table lists to the wall of the kitchen, and turns at the sound of your voice. “Oh, hello Y/N! Welcome.” She sticks out her hand for a shake. “We’re glad to have you, thanks for being on time. Weddings are always busy nights. We’re getting ready to start warming food, if you want you can help the boys finish napkins up front, then we’ll have our meeting. Don’t forget to clock in.”

You nod, and go back to the table in the side lobby. The boy you spoke with first shows you the fold for the napkins that creates a little pocket you can stick the silverware in. Within a few minutes, you’ve folded all the napkins. The boys begin to introduce themselves. 

Theo is the boy you first spoke to. Blaise invented this particular napkin fold, or so he says. Vincent and Greg don’t say much; they’re sharing airpods, but flash you silent peace signs all the same. Everyone is about your age, in college or just out of it. Gabrielle calls everyone back to the kitchen, where the people making the cheese boards are already in a small room off the kitchen, changing into their uniforms. Gabrielle grabs a stiff white dress shirt, silky tie, and black vest off the rack for you, labeled with a tiny piece of tape with your name on it. 

It’s now you realize you’re only one of three girls working, excluding Gabrielle. Gabrielle catches sight of you standing awkwardly outside the room, and barks for all the boys to finish changing outside. There’s lots of grumbling, but most have already pulled on their dress shirts. You and the other girls go into the room and close the door behind you. 

“Are you new?” One girl asks immediately as you start to change.

“Yeah, this is my first night.”

“Oh, fun. I think you’ll like it, we have a pretty good time.” She’s already moved on to her tie, while you’re still struggling to button your shirt. It’s a men’s shirt, so they’re backwards. “Just make sure to work really hard this time. First impressions matter most to Gabrielle.”

“Thanks…?”

“Pansy,” she says, slipping on her vest and tucking the end of her tie into the waistband of her black dress pants. “And that’s Astoria.”

Astoria smiles at you. “It’s true. Most of the boys are slackers, so as long as you’re just a little more productive than them you should be in the clear.”

You all giggle. Pansy shoves her normal shirt into her purse, and leaves the little room, and Astoria leaves a few moments after her. They leave the door open, since you’ve finally gotten your shirt on and tucked in. It’s when you peer into the tiny mirror over the sink in the corner that it dawns on you; you have no idea how to tie your tie. You look out into the kitchen at everyone else, and then turn back to the mirror, trying in vain to recreate the neat knot they all have at their necks. 

“Want some help?’’

You turn around to see one of the boys from the kitchen leaning against the door frame. His bleached hair and chiseled jaw had caught your eye when you had first walked in, but you hadn’t had much time to take a good look. You certainly were now, though.

He motions again to your tie with a tilt of his head. You blink away your Attractive Man Spotted daze and take a few steps towards him. He takes the two ends of your tie hanging around your neck and adjusts the length before crossing them over, over, around and through. “See, and now you can just tighten it,” he says, letting the tie hang around your neck.

“C-could you do it again?” You ask. “So I can learn.”

The edges of his lips quirk up. “Sure.”

So he does. You really are paying attention to the tying, but also to his extremely attractive hands as they settle against your throat when he tightens the tie for you. “You’ve got to do this top button as well,” he says, pulling the collar of your shirt together. His fingers are warm against your skin. “Sorry, it’s always a little tight.”

“It’s fine,” you manage to get out. 

Gabrielle calls for everyone’s attention, and blonde boy gives you one more smile before turning away. She explains how passing a bussing are going to work for the night. She announces that you, Pansy, Vincent and Greg will pass while everyone else ‘flips’ the ceremony room to prepare it for the reception. You try to keep up with what Gabrielle’s saying, but in the end just decide if you’re following everyone else’s lead then you’ll be fine. One of the kitchen workers has set out four trays of various appetizers. You grab a stack of napkins and a tray of shrimp skewers and follow Pansy out into the lobby.

Passing isn’t too hard. All you have to do is wander between the guests, and most of them will take the food off the tray with minimal interaction. The women always want a napkin. The men always insist they’re fine without. Whenever your tray is empty, you go back to the kitchen and someone will refresh it for you. A very easy cycle. One group of girls is particularly enthusiastic about the shrimp, and over the course of the cocktail hour they wave you over and take your shrimp two at a time as they become progressively more drunk. 

Gabrielle stops the four of you passing and you all go back into the kitchen, as they let the guests come in to the newly transformed ballroom. Blonde boy appears at your side and takes one of the leftover mini beef-wellington bites Pansy had been passing from her tray. “We can eat them?” You ask.

He nods. “As long as we’ve fed the guests, it’s fair game. Try one, they’re good.”

You and Pansy both take one off the tray. They are pretty good. “This is Y/N, it’s her first night.” Pansy says.

“Oh, nice,” blonde boy replies. “I wouldn’t have known you were new. I’m Draco, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you.” _Draco, Draco, Draco_. You’re determined to remember his name, feeling slightly embarrassed you’d already forgotten the name of one of the other boys you folded napkins with.

The bride and groom have their first dance, and guests have their salad course while someone from the bridal party makes a speech. Gabrielle snaps her fingers and tells everyone to start bussing so they can get the main course out. 

Draco and the other workers who helped flip bus with you and the other passers. Bussing is just as easy to pick up as passing was, and soon there’s a smooth flow in and out of the kitchen of everyone carrying dishes. Balancing the dirty dishes on your tray isn’t too hard, and you just have to remind yourself to switch arms every so often to keep your wrists from hurting. By the time you’re bringing back people’s dishes from finishing the main courses, you notice Vincent and Greg sitting on the dish crates, taking a break and sitting on their phones. Astoria walks past and gives you a pointed look. You smile a little to yourself as you scrape off the plates, put them in the dirty dish bins and head back out onto the floor. 

By nine-thirty, things have started to slow down. There’s not many people left eating their dinner, save for a few who are hoarding their plate to continue eating rolls. You’re standing by one of the pillars in the ballroom, scanning the tables for something to pick up, when Draco appears next to you again. 

“How’s it going?” He leans in close so you can hear him over the loud music. 

_Mmm, his cologne is nice._ “Good, it’s making me a little hungry though.”

“There’s always extra, ask next time you go back.” He checks his watch. “Let’s start picking up the charger plates. We’ll do cake soon.”

You nod, and he walks off. Back in the kitchen, Pansy and you take a five minute break to eat some leftover rolls and asparagus. After the bride and groom cut the cake, two of the boys bring it back and the kitchen workers start cutting slices and putting them onto trays. Passing the cake has been the easiest thing all night, and everyone takes a break in the kitchen for a minute once it’s done. A dozen leftover slices are all scattered across the metal counter, and everyone takes one. You can hear all the guests screaming the lyrics to “Come On Eileen” through the wall. 

You and Astoria watch Draco and Pansy have a heated friendly argument while you finish your cake, and then it’s time for a final round of bussing. Everything comes off the tables. Once you’re sure all the glasses and plates are put into the bins, Gabrielle tells everyone you can change back into your normal clothes. After a final sweep of the ballroom for any silverware that might’ve fallen on the ground, you’re free to go. Pansy and Draco walk with you to the parking deck.

“When should I clock out?” You open the app on your phone, looking down at the button.

“Wait until you get in your car, that’s what I always do,” Pansy says.

“Like, really wait,” Draco adds. “Phone plugged in, music ready. But don’t drive away, it tracks your location.”

You chuckle. “Noted.”

“Are you working tomorrow?” He asks.

“No, just once this weekend. Next week I’m on Saturday and Sunday, though.”

“Cool, maybe I’ll see you.” He and Pansy need to go up one more level to get to their cars, so you part ways. You take Draco’s advice and get settled before clocking out. 

_Congratulations! You earned €85.37 before taxes for working 6 hours and 48 minutes._

_ View Timecard _

Hm, pretty good. This job doesn’t seem like it’ll be too much of a job after all.


	2. can i call you tonight?

The next time you work, it’s a much smaller event; a charity fundraiser at a small venue (this meant just plain black collared shirts, no ties, thank goodness). There’s only six people working including you, and you’re a little sad to see that Draco isn’t one of them. Luckily, Pansy is there, and none of the people are interested in the goat cheese and date appetizers you’ve been passing, so you sit on the metal kitchen counters with her, Theo and Blaise and eat them.

“Buffet parties are so nice,” Blaise sighs, putting another tiny piece of flatbread into his mouth. “We only really bus once. The dream.”

Pansy picks up the piece of paper that has the catering itinerary and menu printed out on it. “Holy fuck, this party ends at nine thirty. I might actually get to sleep at a normal time tonight.”

“What, no, let me see!” Theo rips the paper from her hands, and looks at it with a surprised expression. “Oh, shit, it does.”

Pansy does a little dance, and Blaise takes a photo of the paper with his phone. A minute later it buzzes with a notification, and he laughs as he reads it. “Yo, Draco is cheesed. He’s at the other party with Gabrielle in Brixton, he probably won’t get back ‘till one.”

“Poor bastard,” says Theo. “Take a photo.”

Blaise opens up his Snapchat camera, and you all squeeze into the frame. Theo poses with a goat cheese flatbread up to his mouth. Blaise captions it “sucks to suck”, and hits send. Draco responds almost immediately.

The photo is only of the top half of his face, and from the angle you can tell he’s in the kitchen. “This wedding has three courses, kill me,” is one caption. Another textbox right below says “tell new girl I said hey xx”.

You can feel all three of your coworkers staring at you as the Snapchat expires. “Give me that,” you say to Blaise, and they all laugh. Blaise hands you his phone. You take a similar photo, furrowing your brows. “calling me new girl? and xx-ing in the same sentence? the audacity.” you caption it. Draco takes less than ten seconds to snap back. 

This one is once again, the top half of his face, but features one of his perfectly-shaped brows in a high arch. “how else am I supposed to make an impression?” it says, with “add me, dmalfoy17” below. 

The snap was a full seven seconds, and you stare at it until it expires. You hand Blaise back his phone and whip your own out from your back pocket. 

“What’d he say?” Pansy asks, snatching the last flatbread away from Theo’s hand. 

“Something cheeky,” you shrug, playing it off. Meanwhile, you open Snapchat and type in his username into the ‘add friend’ bar. 

“Typical,” Theo mumbles, watching wistfully as Pansy eats the last appetizer. “I’m going to go check on how the tables are looking, see how many people have food so far.”

_Draco Malfoy added you back!_

You Snapchat Draco every chance you get as you finish up at your party, and once everything is packed you help take everything down to the loading dock and pack the truck. You and Pansy walk to your cars together, and you take a video of the two of you captioned “we out ” with the timestamp sticker reading a blissful 9:43. Draco sends back a photo of himself in the kitchen again, a text box full of angry emojis.

You say goodnight to Pansy. “You’re working tomorrow, right?” 

“Yeah,” she says, standing on the doorframe of her car to look at you over the roof. “At Sunbeam Studios. You?”

“Same.”

“Nice,” she smiles. “I think most of us will be there, it’s supposed to be a big one. See you then.”

You hop in your own car and clock out. When you get home you take a quick shower and collapse into bed. You have three new Snapchats from Draco. In one of them he says he’s also working at Sunbeam tomorrow, and you smile in spite of yourself. You take a photo of you snuggled in your sheets, and caption it “going to sleep now just to flex on you. see you tomorrow.” You send it and put your phone on your bedside table. The buzz of your notifications cuts through the silence of your room, but you resist the urge to check them. 

The next day you arrive at Sunbeam and clock in. This venue is much bigger than the other’s, and when you walk through the back door your guess is confirmed that tonight will be a fancy wedding. Sure enough, Gabrielle hands you your uniform and asks you to go ahead and change, directing you to a closet. 

You put on the dress shirt and slip the vest on, and lastly tackle the tie. You thread it under your collar, and try to repeat the steps Draco showed you last week. Over, across, wait, that doesn’t look right. Which end was the short one? You try a few more methods and then sigh in defeat. You put your normal shirt into your backpack and leave the closet in search of one boy.

You walk around the back, which is bigger than the other venues you’ve been to, and find Draco in the kitchen. He’s still dressed in his street clothes and is helping organize trays of food to be heated that other people are bringing in from the truck. You walk up and tap him on the shoulder. 

“Oh, hey! Wow, you’re on time.”

He looks so genuinely excited to see you that you can’t help but grin. “Help?” You hold up the ends of your tie.

“Of course.” Draco takes up your tie and starts to knot it. You don’t even try to pay attention.

“Who else is here?”

“Just you so far, besides those of us who came from the warehouse with the truck. Gabrielle is about to loose her fucking mind if the rest of you don’t start showing up. She needs all the passers to help her make the bread boards and set up the salad course.” He finishes your tie and gives it a little tap, and then another to the end of your nose. Your chest feels like it’s collapsing in on itself. 

“You’re not serving tonight?” You busy yourself with the buttons on your vest as you talk.

Draco leans against the counter and pulls a face. “No, sorry. They need me in the kitchen.” He nods his head in the direction of the door that must lead to the reception area. “Gabrielle’s out there, you should probably go.”

“Sorry,” you say, walking around the other side of the counter. “I’m still trying to process this betrayal.”

“I’m sorry! I’ll make you a box and save you some cake.” He leans on his elbows, looking up at you as you rest your back on the door. “Just come hang out with me in here when you’re not bussing– it’s a buffet so there should be some downtime. I’ll just yell at the others if they try to take a break back here.”

You laugh and try to think of something tricky to reply with when the door is ripped out from behind you, causing you to stumble backwards. Draco snorts. 

“Y/N! Come on, I need your help. Draco, stop distracting her!” Gabrielle does look incredibly flustered. 

“I was just coming,” you say, and Draco holds up his hands in mock surrender. 

You help Gabrielle arrange various breads on trays, along with scoops of hummus and goat cheese. You’re adding olives to the trays when Pansy walks in, doing the last buttons on her vest. Gabrielle practically throws a box of crackers at her and tells her to start adding them on, rambling on about how stressed she is. “…And then we left two boxes of food at the warehouse and I had to go back and get it… luckily we’re the closest. If it was the other party we’re doing tonight I would’ve lost my mind. That one’s all the way in Watford, they never would’ve made it back and forth in time.”

You politely listen, nodding when appropriate. You’re finishing the trays when Greg and Vincent walk in, in the midst of doing their ties and putting on the vests. Gabrielle yells at them to finish getting dressed later and to start assembling salads, shoving a bag of greens into Greg’s arms and a bag of shredded carrot to Vincent. “We’ll just assemble them on the plates out here. Please be neat.” 

You fill water glasses while they walk around and make the salads directly onto the plates, assembly line style. Pansy is following behind Greg, adding raisins to the beds of greens he’s laying down. You watch her for a moment as she adjusts the amount of salad on each plate, taking from plates with too much and adding to ones with too little before sprinkling her raisins. You catch her eye and she shakes her head furiously at Greg’s incompetence. 

Once all the glasses are filled, you help set out the bread trays onto the tables and head to the back to take a break while everyone waits for the guests to arrive from the ceremony. Draco and Theo are the only ones in the kitchen tonight, opening boxes of food and assembling appetizers onto trays. You grab the menu sheet off of the cooler and skim it. As usual, it all sounds delicious. 

“These people must love mexican food,” Pansy says, looking over your shoulder. “Who asks for two types of tacos at their _wedding_?”

“White people who want to be funky,” Theo says, pulling a pan of the goat cheese flatbreads from the oven and replacing it with one of chopped fried fish. 

Draco pulls the wrapping off a cardboard box to reveal miniature taco shells made from blue corn. “I don’t think we’ve ever made these.”

Gabrielle bursts into the kitchen to tell the four of you who helped set up to start passing. The goat cheese and tomato mozzarella flatbreads are the only thing that’s ready. You and Pansy each put on a single glove and place six appetizers around the edges of your circular serving trays, grab some napkins and head out. 

You weave through guests in the lobby, the pleasant sound of the string quartet that’s in the corner filling your ears. A group of bridesmaids in seafoam dresses stop you before you get very far and wipe your tray clean. Clearly everyone is starving, because they ask you to come back as soon as you can. 

When you return to the kitchen, Draco has a specially shaped wooden board with six tiny tacos in the little grooves ready for you. “They’re so cute. What’s in them?” You ask as you put down your empty tray for Theo to refill and pick up the board to examine them

Draco pauses in filling another taco and looks over at the menu paper. “Uh, sriracha chicken. Want to try?”

You nod. You move to put down the board, but Draco holds out the one he just made, and you open your mouth. You try to eat it as neatly as you can in one bite from his hand. He gives you a questioning look, and you nod approvingly. “‘S good,” you say after swallowing. 

“Hey, stop stealing from the guests,” Theo teases. He leans towards Draco and opens his mouth dramatically. “I wanna get fed, too.” 

“Get your own,” Draco deadpans. 

You laugh at Theo’s offended face, and hurry out of the kitchen to hide your blush. It’s not from the spice. 

Tiny tacos are a big hit. You abandon passing the flatbread appetizers, waiting in the kitchen every time for Draco to fill your board. When he opens the next box of miniature shells, you’re all surprised to see that they’re yellow. Twenty minutes after that, the final box is filled with red ones. “If I’d known they were different, I would’ve mixed them!” 

“You’re fired, Draco,” Pansy mocks. “Out of the kitchen. You’re never allowed to touch tacos again.”

There’s a short break for the passers while the guests recess into the reception room and eat the salad course. Then you’re sent out to start collecting plates, and to tell the guests the buffet is open for them to get food at their leisure. 

The night goes on like usual– out on the floor, try not to drop any dishes, someone asks for a new fork, bus the plates in the back. This venue has a place for outdoor bussing, which you find nice since the weather is pleasant. Once it hits 9:30, it’s a struggle to take plates from guests who are still eating or sipping the very last of their drinks, as usual. You haven’t taken a break all night, because every time you would head out onto the floor there were dishes on every table to take. You dump the ice from some cocktail glasses into the liquids bucket and peek around the corner to where the truck is parked. Greg and Vincent are sitting on the back of the truck, sharing a cigarette and staring at their phones. You sigh in annoyance and put the glasses into their designated crate. If those two can take a break, you’re going to also.

You walk back into the building and into the kitchen. Draco’s the only one in there, sitting on a cooler and checking his phone as well. “Hey.”

He looks up as you settle onto the cooler next to him, stretching out your legs and popping your neck. “Hey. They keeping you busy out there?” Draco asks.

“Yes,” you sigh. “That, and Pansy and I are the only ones bussing. Greg and Vincent are out at the truck skiving off.”

“I’ll put Gabrielle on them,” Draco says. “They’re always doing that. At least they’re learning to not hang around where I can see them.”

“Where’s Theo?” You rub on your right shoulder– it’s gotten incredibly tight from carrying your heavy tray all night.

“Cutting the cake. You’ll have those plates soon, and that’ll be it.” Draco sets his phone on the counter and shifts towards you, motioning for you to turn also. “Let me.”

Draco digs his thumbs into your tense muscles and you can’t help but groan. “Ugh, that feels _heavenly_.”

“You’ve got to switch the arms you carry with, Y/N. You’re so much tighter on the right.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you say, leaning into his touch.

The bliss of having Draco’s hands work your tense muscles is sadly short lived. Theo comes into the kitchen with the rest of the cake, having served all the guests. It’s got three different layers, vanilla, chocolate, and carrot, and you have a tiny slice of each. 

“We’re gonna go take down the buffet, what do you want me to save you?” Draco says, boxing up the untouched top layer of cake to put in the refrigerator for the new couple.

“Just some of the mac n cheese and veggies, please.” You grab your bussing tray and head back out onto the floor. Greg and Vincent have reappeared, and when there’s only a few tables left with cake plates you head to the back again. Draco is loading up the truck while Theo cleans the kitchen. “Want me to bring you these glass crates?” You call to Draco.

“Please!”

You carry the crates of glasses and dirty dishes from the bussing area to Draco in the back of the truck. You’re pretty strong, but Draco takes even the heaviest crates from you with ease. _Why are boys allowed to be so muscular for no reason?_

“We’re missing some glasses, did you get everything off the floor?” Draco leans against the wall inside truck, looking down at you on the ground. He’s shiny with sweat, and he lifts up the bottom of his shirt to wipe his forehead off, giving you a great view of his toned abdomen. 

“Uh.” You continue to stare at him even as he drops his shirt, your mouth going dry. “I’m pretty sure.”

“Hopefully they’ll turn up.” Draco checks his watch. “It’s already eleven, why do people never want to fucking leave?”

You turn around to glance at the windows, still glowing blue from the lights inside, ‘Build Me Up Buttercup’ easily heard even from outside. You stare at the lights for a few seconds, trying to blink away the image of shirtless Draco from your mind. “Dunno.” 

When you turn back, he’s staring at you now. Draco jumps off the back of the truck and lands lightly beside you. “Let’s go help Theo in the kitchen, see if we can get everything else ready.”

The rest of the supplies are pretty much packed and ready to be brought to the truck. Everyone who had put on a uniform is changing back into their street clothes, and Pansy is taking off her dress shirt in the middle of the kitchen without a care. You momentarily wonder what would happen if you decided that bold, but end up going out into the hall to slip out of your uniform. 

They’ve finally turned on the lights in the reception room, and you all head out to do one last sweep of the floor, checking under tablecloths for stray forks or napkins. You find a few and carry them to the back, and the few glasses you were missing earlier make their appearance. Gabrielle shoos you all from the kitchen at last, telling you to go home. 

You put your takeout box Draco had made you into your backpack and head towards the parking lot, when you hear footsteps catching up with you. It’s Draco, and he’s carrying a giant bunch of white flowers that you recognize as the centerpieces from the tables. “Are you stealing?” You chide.

“See, I was going to give you some, but now I’m rethinking it,” he smirks. “I sometimes like to take them. My mum loves white lilies.”

“That’s sweet.” 

You’ve reached your car, and he stops with you, holding out the giant bunch. “Pick some.”

You make a serious face as you select a handful of flowers and bring them up to your nose. They still smell wonderful. “Thanks, Draco.”

“No problem.” He throws you a wink and turns on his heel. “See you next week, Y/N.”

You get into your car and clock out, setting the flowers on your dashboard. When you get back to your flat you carefully arrange them in one of your tallest glasses in some water, and set them on your counter. They’re a nice reminder to get you through your week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don’t you wish draco malfoy would give you a shoulder massage on the clock and give you flowers…. damn


	3. i think he knows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 🤪🤪🤪  
> also Ao3 is being wacky rn and this is the last chapter (3/3) but it keeps showing (3/?) which is untire this is finished.

On Saturday morning, you wake up to a horrible sensation at the back of your mouth. You get out of bed and chug a glass of water, but your throat still feels as dry as a piece of paper. You think about texting Gabrielle and asking for the day off, but remember how you need the money… that, and you’d been snapchatting Draco all week and knew he would be there tonight. It’s only just past nine, you can rest all day and save your energy for work later.

You nap on and off, nursing a glass of water and a couple bowls of hot cereal. You don’t feel bad otherwise, and by midday your throat is actually feeling a bit better. Around 4 you get ready for work, and decide you can walk. You’re lucky Gabrielle scheduled you so close to your flat, some fresh air will probably do you some good. The crisp fall air helps you feel refreshed, and you make your way around to the back door of the event space at exactly 4:30. 

As you walk towards the kitchen to put your bag down, you see the catering truck pull into the alleyway. Even so, you’re not the first person there. Draco is sitting in the kitchen on his phone, eating a container of takeout.

“Hey, Y/N.” He looks up when you walk in. “I like your hair.”

Your fingers reach up to touch your meticulously mussed bun. “Thanks.”

He reacts immediately to your raspy voice. “You haven’t got the lurgy, have you?” He asks, giving you a wary look.

“Just a sore throat,” you assure him, boosting yourself up onto the counter. “Maybe allergies or something.”

Draco still looks skeptical, and you just roll your eyes. “I don’t have the lurgy, thanks. If I thought I was contagious, I wouldn’t be here to serve people food.” 

“Good thing you’re not on kitchen,” he points out, closing his now empty container. 

“C’mon, the truck just pulled up,” you say, sliding off the counter.

Draco follows you out to the back, where the truck is backed up to the loading dock. Everyone else starts to trickle in as you help Michael, Gabrielle’s husband who she owns the business with, unload. Racks of plastic covered food go to the kitchen, bins of dishware and glasses stay in the back room. Theo is there, and so are Astoria and her sister Daphne, but Pansy is nowhere to be seen. This will be your first time working without her, so you open your phone to send her a Snapchat as the boys grab the last few things off the truck. You snap a photo of you giving a thumbs down captioned “can’t believe we’re separated”.

Michael puts Theo and one other boy you haven’t worked with before in the kitchen with Draco, and sends the girls off to set the tables. The event space is an open industrial-looking room, with a dance floor and lots of tables draped in pale blue and yellow. Signs across the room say “LIA”, and at first you wonder if it’s an acronym for something.

“Do you know what kind of party this is?” You ask Astoria while you set out forks.

“I think a mitzvah,” she responds. “That’s Mary Anne, the event planner over there. We’ve worked lots of mitzvahs for her in the past.”

“Oh, cool.” You look around at the space in a new light. These people certainly are spending a lot of money of their daughter’s bat mitzvah. 

You finish setting the tables and filling the glasses with water. There’s multiple food stations set up along one wall of the room for the adults, and the other for kids. You all join Michael in the back room for a quick meeting. 

“We’re limited in buffet space, so around ten we’re going to flip the pasta station for dessert. The family is going to have a long horah, so that’ll be our best chance to bus all the dishes and silverware before we set that out.” Michael explains. “We’ll set up bussing back here so we can load while the party is still happening. If you’re working the floor, go ahead and get changed.”

Astoria and Daphne grab their uniforms and disappear off towards the bathroom together. You think about following them out, but realize it’s only you and Draco in the back room now. Last weekend comes back into your mind. He’s in the other corner of the room, not even looking at you as he pulls on his own dress shirt. Fuck it. 

You turn your back and strip your t-shirt off, slipping into the stiff fabric of your dress shirt. You do up the buttons on the front before turning around. Draco’s staring at you, now fully dressed. He’s got his arms crossed and is observing you with a smirk on his face while you button your cuffs. 

“What?” You taunt.

He just beckons you over with a single finger. 

You cross the room seemingly too fast and find yourself just inches away from his chest, looking up into his grey eyes. The slight blue tinge in them is set off by his sky-blue tie. Draco slips the silky strip of fabric from between the fingers in your outstretched hand, looping it around your neck and pulling you just slightly closer.

_Oh._

You can feel his eyes on you as he does your tie, while you pretend not to notice and busy yourself with buttoning your cuffs again. He takes his time tightening it against your throat, the tips of his fingers brushing against your skin. 

“Do you always forget this button on purpose?” He dips a finger into the collar of your shirt to fish out the button to fasten it. You look up at him as he concentrates.

“No,” you lie.

Draco finishes with your tie and takes a moment to study your face. His captivating eyes burn with something unsaid. “Let’s get out to the floor.”

Michael puts you behind a table on the side of the room, in charge of making overdressed twelve-year-olds Shirley Temples. Your coworkers mill among them, passing appetizers of miniature soft pretzels and mac ‘n cheese bites. It feels strange to be serving and treating such young children like adults, who are all across the room sipping real cocktails and having normal horderves. The nice thing about your standing station is that you can sip water to soothe your throat, and check your phone for messages from Pansy. After about two hours, Draco comes over to check on you.

“How are you feeling?”

You shrug, snatching the last pretzel off his tray. “It’s not any better, but I’m fine.”

“Wanna switch? We’re starting bussing, you can sit in the back and scrape plates if you want to sit down.” 

You’d be fine to keep standing, but sitting and taking a break from the loud music does sound nice.

“Sure, thanks.”

You take his tray from him and head to the back. You sit on the tables that had been set up, and scrape plates into the giant trash can and put them into their designated bins. MIchael comes into the back and enlists you to help set out the desserts. You pass Theo, carrying a large tray of squash ravioli, as you head to the floor. “Don’t put it away just yet, I want some!” 

“Gotcha,” he acknowledges, before toting it into the kitchen.

You help Michael and Astoria carefully arrange brownies and waffles covering in chocolate and sprinkles on sticks on what was once the pasta table. The children all gather at a safe distance, waiting for you to finish. As soon as the three of you step away, there is a slightly terrifying primary-schooler stampede. 

Michael makes eye contact with you and looks disgusted. “I’m never having children.”

You and Astoria burst out laughing and you all head to the back. As promised, Theo has left the extra pasta out for you, and you pack your takeout container with ravioli and roasted vegetables. Michael finds a tray of waffles that didn’t make it out, and after swearing a little decides there’s no way he’s going back out there and lets you all eat them. Draco is still out on the floor, and you go out to relay the information of the waffles. 

“We can switch again,” you say, but your tired voice doesn’t carry over the music. 

He leans a little closer. “What?”

You repeat what you said before and add the part about the waffles. Your throat is killing you, and you make yourself a new cup of water. Draco looks at you sympathetically, and heads back to the kitchen. 

At eleven, it’s time to break down. Guests are finally leaving, and you bring your leftover sodas and mixers from your station to the back along with your trash. Michael sends Astoria and Daphne to check the floor one last time while the rest of you change and pack the truck. They return with a few stray silverware pieces and the event planner trailing behind, who hands you each an envelope with forty extra euros in cash inside. 

You pretend to busy yourself with putting your tips in your wallet, but in reality you’re just buying a few extra seconds so you can shamelessly watch Draco slip back into his jumper and ruffle his hair. It still doesn’t make sense to you that he can look so good under the unflattering fluorescent lights, and you’re too busy contemplating his hair to look away when he catches you staring. 

Instead of a teasing quip, he asks, “Still not feeling any better?”

“Honestly? My throat feels like shit right now.”

He waves a hand in the direction of the door. “Come, lets go get tea.”

He’s already walking, and you have no choice but to follow. “Draco, you know I can just go home, I have tea in my own apartment.”

“Oh, come on now,” he says, turning around and walking backwards. “Where’s the fun in that? Let me buy you a tea.”

You roll your eyes, but then jog a few steps to catch up with him. “Would you mind dropping me off at my flat after? I walked here.”

“You walked to work? While sick?” He looks down at you, shocked.

“Uh, yes?”

“You are crazy.” He leads the way to a parking deck around the corner from the venue, and up the stairs to the level his car is parked at. Draco pulls out his keys and clicks the button on the fob and you see lights flash up ahead, but when you catch sight of the blue and white checkers you almost stop in your tracks. “…You do not drive a BMW. This is not you car.”

Draco pauses, hand on the driver’s side door. His face crumbles as he struggles to contain a massive grin, and he just bites his lip and gets in the car.

“No!” you yell as loudly as you’re able, heading for the passengers side and sticking your head into the car. “No! Draco, I thought you were a student! How the fuck can you have a car like this and work as a server for a catering company.”

The luxurious car lights up as he puts in the keys. “Um… that’s for me to know, and you to never know, how about that?”

“Bloody hell,” you mutter, slipping into the car. The leather seats are like butter beneath you. 

_I can’t believe this, he’s one of those rich boys. I have a crush on a rich boy._ You shake your head in disbelief and buckle your seat belt. Post Malone starts to play over the speakers.

Draco does the thing where he puts his hand on your headrest as he turns to look out the rear window while backing up. How can boys make such normal things so hot? His eyes momentarily flick to you and he catches you watching him. You both let slip tiny smiles.

“Let’s go fast,” Draco says, putting the car into drive.

“What? Draco, we’re in a parking deck- AH!” You screech as he floors the car for a second and you speed down the aisle, and he laughs. He takes the turn down the ramp fast, too, and you grab onto the handle above the door. “DRACO STOP!” But you know your high-pitched screams are just encouraging him, his deep boyish laugh filling the car. 

Once you’re on the road, you take in the lights of London as you drive, enjoying the cozy interior of Draco’s car and it’s wonderful sound system. It feels slightly wrong to pull into a curbside parking space outside Balans. 

“Looks busy,” you muse, peering through the window.

“I’ll bring it back here. What do you want?”

“Green is fine.”

“Make sure no one steals my car, please,” he says as he opens the door and slips out. 

You watch him go around the back of the car and make sure he’s inside the cafe before you cover your face with your hands and rest your head on the dashboard. You let out a long, close-mouthed screech. _I. Cannot. Believe. This is happening._ “The one time be decides to take me out I’m sick… BECAUSE I’m sick,” you say out loud to yourself. “Stupid fucking thoughtful, cute boys.”

Draco returns with your teas after a short while, and you relish the warmth radiating from the cardboard cup. “I had them put honey in it,” he says.

Your chest does that stupid thing where it feels like your lungs stop working. “Thank you. How much…” but you trail off when you catch sight of his calculating look.

“Y/N, a tea is like two quid. You don’t have to pay me back,” he says with a chuckle, taking the lid off his cup and blowing on his drink.

“Yeah, yeah, I realized that as I remembered we’re sitting in a series 5.”

Draco snorts into his cup. He sets it down for a moment in the cup holder and kicks off his shoes, turning in the seat so he can face you. “I know, it’s embarrassing,” he says, picking his tea up again.

You remove your shoes and mimic him, wiggling your toes in your socks. “Okay, seriously though. Now I need to know the reason you work at a bloody catering company.” You sip your tea, enjoying the relief it brings your sore throat. A sprinkle starts outside, dotting the glass of the car with water like glitter.

“My mum always told me everyone should have experience working in service,” he says. “Also, it’s stupid to go your entire student life without any work experience.”

You nod. “Okay, fair, fair.”

“Why are _you_ working at a catering company?” He counters.

“Because I have a flat to pay rent for,” you snort. “And it pays better than working at a place like this.” You job your thumb behind you at Balans.

“Mmm, do you have flatmates?”

You shake your head no. 

“Double edged blade,” he says, sipping his tea. “No help but at least you’re alone.”

“Yeah. And it’s better than living on campus.” You pretend to gag. “I did that first year, and never wanted to again.”

Draco wrinkles his nose in understanding. “I agree. Where do you study? I guess not too far, since your flat is nearby.”

“Bernel. You?”

“Kings College,” he answers. “Pansy, too. Did she tell you that?”

“No, actually. So do you know each other from school or work?”

“She’s a family friend, actually.” He says. “Theo had the job first. He told Pansy, Pansy told me. My ex used to work with us too, but he quit a while back.”

You can’t help but stiffen a little at the word ‘he’. Oh no. This boy could not be gay. You’d been so sure he’d been flirting with you all this time! All those moments, all you texting and talking on Snapchat…

Draco seemed to sense your sudden energy shift. “I’m bisexual,” he expands.

“Oh,” you breathe a sigh of relief.

“What were you thinking?”

“Nothing. Nothing bad! It’s just… good to know you like girls.”

“It is?” He cocks an eyebrow. “Why?”

“No reason.” You busy yourself with examining the stitching on the car seats, but you can feel his gaze burning into the side of your head. You look over, and he has the most disgusting smirk on his face.

Oh, he knows alright.

“Do you want to hang out?” He asks, leaning towards you. “Outside of work.”

“Then what are we doing right now?” You peek over the lip of your cup at him.

He pauses, then practically purrs, “I think I’d prefer it if you weren’t sick.” 

A tingly sensation spreads throughout your body, this time not from the tea. You’d never wished to be well more in your entire life. “Well, believe me when I say I’ll let you know as soon as I’m lurgy-free.” 

“Good.”

You and Draco talk until the rain is coming down hard, and Balans goes dark at midnight. He starts the engine again and follows your directions back to your flat. By then, your voice is starting to go, leaving you speaking a good two octaves lower than normal.

“Sorry, I keep making you talk,” Draco says as he pulls up across from your building.

You gather your bag from the floor and push your shoes back on. “And scream for my life.”

“Hey, but you have a sexy sick voice.”

You squeeze your eyes shut bite your lip to keep from making another involuntary screech. “See you later, Draco.”

“Get well soon.”

You close the door of his car and leap across the sidewalk under the awning of your door, when your heart skips a beat and sends you flying back to the passenger side. “DRACO!”

“What?” He looks at you slightly alarmed as you start to get soaked by the rain.

“I forgot to clock out!” You cry.

His face goes from blank back to alarmed. “Fuck, so did I!”

You can’t help but start laughing, and he shoos you towards your apartment again. “It’ll be fine, just text Gabrielle. Please go inside!”

Rain is rolling down your face and into your eyes. Instead of turning back around, your dive back inside the car. Your knees dig into the passenger seat and you lean across the center console, one of your hands making contact with the glass of the window behind Draco’s head. Because of the awkward angle, your foreheads collide a little more forcefully than you anticipated, but the feeling of his warm lips against yours is worth it. You pull away and relish the look of surprise on his face. 

“Have fun being sick,” you say with a grin. You slide back out of the car and slam the door.

You run up the stairs into your flat and close the door, leaning back against it. Strands of wet hair are plastered all across your face, but you’ve never felt happier. Inside your pocket, your phone buzzes.

_Draco Malfoy is typing…_

_Snapchat from Draco Malfoy_


End file.
